Monday: The Unseen Migration
As they hurried to pack their belongings, the strange sounds of the approaching storm grew louder. But then something even stranger happened. The air seemed to shift, and suddenly, a shadow passed overhead.
Jas, still wiping the sleep from their eyes, looked up and gasped.
"Look," they said, pointing toward the sky. "What are they doing?"
Overhead, a vast cloud of birds filled the sky, their wings beating in unison. Thousands of them—no, millions—flocked northward, moving as if they were one massive, synchronized entity. The sky seemed to darken even further as the birds passed, casting an eerie shadow over the cenote.
Ivy Mae squinted into the distance. "That's not normal. Birds don’t migrate like that, not in the middle of the day. Not this time of year."
Roman stood frozen, his eyes following the movement. “Something's off. This doesn’t feel right."
As the last of the birds disappeared into the distance, a chill settled over the group. It wasn’t just the wind that had shifted. It felt like the earth itself was moving. And as if on cue, a deep rumble echoed from the ground beneath their feet.
Then, from the woods around them, animals began to appear—rabbits, deer, even foxes—all moving in the same direction, their eyes wide with an unsettling fear. They passed the cenote without even stopping, seemingly unaware of the humans watching them. They were all heading northwest, the same direction the birds had flown.
Roman was the first to speak, his voice a mix of awe and concern. “This is... some kind of migration. But what is making them leave?”
Ivy Mae, now more alert than ever, stood tall. “We have to go. Now. They’re acting like something’s coming. Something we can’t see yet.”